


RWBY: Underworld

by XaosDiscordial



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, But I am pretty ambitious, Gen, It's honestly an ambitious work, many OCs - Freeform, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25241161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XaosDiscordial/pseuds/XaosDiscordial
Summary: The underbelly of Mantle is a tumultuous place - choc-full of rival factions, each with their own agendas. In such an impossible place, can one gang rise to the top; and, if they can, what happens when everything comes crashing down around them...Set a few years before the start of the show. Focuses mainly on a cast of Original Characters, with Canon Divergence down the line.
Kudos: 1





	1. Trailer 1 - "Crimson"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks!
> 
> I know it's been a while, but things should be getting back on track either now or very soon! I'm going for a bulk upload today, in the hopes of building publicity for my !NEW YOUTUBE VIDEO! all about writing fanfiction. I worked very hard on it, so please check it out at youtube.com/watch?v=5Xa2xEQS8xw& . Otherwise, today is my !18TH BIRTHDAY! and this is the start of a brand new story with an almost totally unique cast of characters set in Atlas a few years before the start of the show. It starts much like the show: a set of Trailers...

**RWBY: Underworld**

**Trailer 1: "Crimson"**

/-/

" _With the application of courage, there is nothing that is unachievable. Those that cast you down merely cannot see that_ _ **luck**_ _never comes to those who never try."_

A faunus boy stumbled through the twisting maze of Mantle's underbelly, clutching a knife to his chest with his sweat-soaked palms. His brown hair fell in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision as he raced to escape his pursuers. If only he could explain it to Mandible himself, then maybe he would call them off – maybe, he could survive! A stone settling in his gut, he was too preoccupied to notice the man in front of him before he slammed into them.

"The hell?"

Stopped in his tracks, the boy looked up hastily. With dawning horror, he noticed the white coat, the green eyes, the red hair – the hat.

Roman Torchwick, Kingpin of Vale, stared down in amusement at the terrified child.

"And what's got you running so fast, kid?"

"I- I- sorry, I need to go-"

"Not so fast." Roman chuckled at his own joke, grabbing the boy by arm. "You're running from something aren't you?"

The boy tried to pull away, even brandishing his knife, but it was no use – Torchwick was too strong. He heard his pursuers arriving behind him, and he slumped in defeat. It was too late.

Roman heard them coming too, eyes flicking down the alley. "Well, what do we have here?"

The footsteps came to a stop. The boy brushed his hair out of his eyes to look at the newcomers – his soon to be murderers.

Jawbone stopped before them, his dark skin speckled with green scales and his slit eyes shifting behind his dreads as his hand went to his scabbard. An assortment of his followers stopped behind him – Hat-trick with his knives and black'n'red fedora, Poizzon with his darts as well as three others that the boy couldn't recognise. Jawbone stepped forward with a grin that could have been described as shark-like was he not a Gator-faunus.

"Well well well, looks like some meat for us boys! Not fresh though – no, this guy's been around for a while." His followers laughed as Jawbone postured dramatically. "Roman Torchwick, on our turf? What could this be?"

Roman grinned confidently. "Just taking a look-see at the neighbouring properties. Being nosy and all, y'know how it is. Though, I was under the impression that _this_ particular 'turf' belonged to the Blood-Skulls."

Jawbone was glaring in an instant. "We are the Blood-Skulls."

"I thought that the Blood-Skulls were Mandible's lot-"

"I _work_ for Mandible." Jawbone brandished his crude blade, made from an old lawnmower. "They call me Jawbone, and I run this sector. Now, we're only after the kid. You ain't any more a part of this as you want to be, Torchwick – tread lightly."

Roman glanced down at the boy before shoving him to the side. The kid landed awkwardly in the mouth of another alley, dazed from the force and knife lost. He turned back to Jawbone.

"What do you need the kid for? Seems pretty harmless to me."

Jawbone huffed. "He stole something from the boss. I don't ask questions, I just do as I'm told."

The boy's heart sank. So it _was_ Mandible that had sent out the hit. With his options exhausted, he sat back and waited to die.

It seemed the universe had some more luck in store for him today. He opened his eyes at the odd sensation of a cane – a different one this time – prodding his face. At first, it looked like Torchwick – white shirt, red hair – but the eyes seemed to glow gold in the dim light of Mantle's dark alleyways and a pair of fox ears shot from the top of the head alertly. The face looked older than him, but still young; maybe 11 or 12. The red-haired boy smiled and spoke with an exotic* accent and a voice too deep for his age.

"Sounds like you have something interesting, friend. Want to share?"

The boy nodded vigorously, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the paper he had taken. Any chance to be rid of it would be welcome. The red-haired faunus took it and handed him a small stack of lien.

"Buy yourself something nice, lad - and if you want to be safe after all this is over, look for me. I might have a place for you." With a wave, the older boy dismissed the other. He ran into the alley and was gone in an instant as the red-haired faunus inspected his prize.

Roman was still sassing Jawbone.

"I still don't see what this kid could have possibly stolen from your boss. It's not like you'd be in charge of anything important."

Jawbone growled in frustration. "It wasn't your business before you let the kid get away!"

"Now, let's not-"

"Gentlemen."

Both stared in surprise at the interruption, the red-haired faunus stepping out of the shadows. A revolver sat at his hip – in his hand, he carried a medical cane. Jawbone stared boorishly.

"Who the fuck are you?"

The faunus chuckled, pushing his hair back over his head. "The name's Crimson. I just so happen to be starting a little… business venture here in Mantle. Once I heard the two of you talking, I couldn't resist taking a peek."

Roman looked him up and down disinterestedly. "Look, kid, I've enough fans as it is, but it's dangerous out here-"

"I'll be honest with you, Roman – can I call you Roman? – but I know that it's dangerous out here. I _live_ here." Crimson gestured with his metallic cane. "I'm just taking interest in… local politics."

Jawbone growled menacingly. "Look, pipsqueak, get lost! There's a little rat out here who stole somethin' that belongs to us, and I'm gonna-"

"Would you be talking about this old thing?" Crimson waved the slip of paper out in front of him, smiling coyly. "Took it off the poor kid's hands. Poor lad looked scared half to death!"

Jawbone pointed his lawnmower sword towards Crimson with a grimace. "You hand that over to me now, kid, and I won't hurt ya."

Crimson looked at the slip of paper before surreptitiously sliding it into his pocket. "How about I say… No?"

And with that, the street was filled with action.

Jawbone launched himself at the boy, who dodged faster than Roman had ever seen in someone of that age; not even Neo had been that skilled when he'd found her. The kid parried each of Jawbone's strikes with his medical cane, the sound of metal striking metal filling the alley. Hat-trick and Poizzon ran at Roman, but Poizzon was knocked away by the strike of a rapier. From nowhere, a small girl weaved into the fray and started cutting into Poizzon's aura. Two of the other men came to help him, while a third followed Hat-trick to Roman. Roman had no difficulty fighting off the two men at once, blocking their strikes with his cane. With a few quick shots of his cane the unknown man fell away, aura shattered. Hat-trick attacked him again with renewed vigour.

Poizzon fell to the floor unceremoniously from Neo's kick as she turned to take on the two other attackers. The first was easy – a pirouette and a backflip managed to conceal enough jabs of her rapier that the man went down. The second caught her off guard, her rapier flying from her hand as she rolled after it. She took up the rapier again, looking up to see her assailant bearing down on her with big, strong, _deadly_ arms.

Jawbone's body flew into the other attacker, sending the both of them into the air. Neo looked over in surprise to see Crimson waltzing towards her.

"You looked like you could handle it, but I decided to help anyway."

Neo huffed before, with a start, she realised something. She reached up to the top of her head as she squared up with the boy, reached over above his head on the same plane and found her hand hovering an inch above it.

He looked up, unimpressed and bemused. "Yes, you are taller than me. Most everyone is taller than me. Weren't we in the middle of something?"

Neo's eyes nearly sparkled as she gave a silent giggle.

"Asa matter o' fact, we _were_ in the middle of something," said Jawbone as he clambered to his feet. "Now I hope you kids like hell, cause it's where _I'll send ya_!"

"Not so fast, Croc-goblin."

A few shots of Roman's cane, and Hat-trick was thrown at Jawbone's last accomplice, both riddled with bullet-holes. He swaggered on over, giving a cheeky grin to anyone that would look.

Neo looked at Roman with disapproval and began to sign.

" _Croc-goblin? Really?"_

"You'll get it when your older, Neo."

" _I already get the joke. Was 'Croc-goblin' the best you could do?"_

Well, what were _you_ thinking of instead-"

Their impromptu conversation was cut short by a gun shot. Jawbone fell, dead, as Crimson walked out from behind him to Hat-trick's body. As Roman and Neo silently watched, he picked up Hat-trick's fedora and slid it onto his own head.

"It'll need some earholes, but… Hey look Roman! Matching hats!" He gave a silly smile as he cocked the new-found headgear.

"Nice, kid, but I've already got one small, murderous child. Kinda stocked up, to be honest. No more room in _this_ freaked family dynamic."

Crimson gave another chuckle, holstering his pistol. "Wasn't my intention to join the party, Roman. Just to invite you to mine."

Roman's eyebrow twitched as he fought off confusion. "Oh?"

Crimson nodded, turning away and starting back into the shadows of Mistral's underbelly. "I though an acquaintance might do well for me, what with how much I've got planned."

Roman strained his eyes to follow the boy's shrinking form. "And what was your name again, pipsqueak?"

Crimson stopped for a moment, smirking back with those two, glowing gold eyes.

"I told you; the name's Crimson."

 **C** R S L

TEAM CAROUSEL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, wasn't that a start!
> 
> Setting us off with some recognisable and some new characters to ease us in to the new story - we've got Roman and Neo and Fighting, Oh My!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this new beginning - as well as the video I linked, if you decided to watch it.
> 
> Either way, make sure to check out my !NEW PATREON! and Ko-fi at /xaosdiscordial for both.
> 
> Thanks you for reading, and see you dreckly!


	2. Trailer 2 - Rouge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, sorry about the wait! Stuff is still hard out here, and there's no telling what's going to happen now that I'm back in school.
> 
> I'll give it til November. Ha!
> 
> Still, here's the second trailer for RWBY:Underworld. Be warned - at least 30 people die. It's crazy.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

**RWBY: Underworld**

**Trailer 2: "Rouge"**

/-/

" _Skill and Strength are not opposed. In fact, one could say that skill was a type of strength – or that skill is a more effective tool to channel strength into_ _ **wrath**_ _."_

With a solid clunk, the drill stopped. Rouge pulled it back from the hole, inspecting her work.

The hole she had drilled was half an inch across, going completely through the inch-thick metal piece. She put down the drill and started to look for a thread tap.

As she rummaged around the many bits and screws and springs in her toolbox, she was comforted by the sound of her grandfather working in the other room. He was all she had left, but he had taught her as much as he could. She found the tap.

She started, twisting the tap in. She tried to concentrate, but this had to be the most boring part of her hobby. As she settled into a rhythm, her eyes swept up to the photo on her desk.

It was a picture of her mother: the only picture she had, as her mom had been notoriously camera shy. Even this photo, taken in Mistral on a chance holiday – Rouge hadn't existed yet, so they had travelled – had her sporting a nervous smile as she posed awkwardly for the camera. The Mistralian sun cast irregular shadows of her dark brown hair onto her light brown skin, which her dad had described in his poems as like honey. Rouge shared these features, the biological vestiges of her mother, but not her eyes. Those came from her dad – bright red like the glow of hot metal not yet ready to strike.

At some point, Rouge had stopped. She sighed, brushing metal shavings from her red t-shirt and denim dungarees and got back to work. She had planned on completing her hobby piece before sundown, but it would never get done at this rate.

She was distracted again by strange sounds from the other room. She tried to ignore it, but they came again – loud talking, rushed. Was a customer causing trouble? She got up, crouching, and peeked through the thick beaded entrance to the shop proper.

Two men stood on the other side of the counter, both wearing praying mantis masks and plain hoodies. The one in front held out a pistol, waving it in her Grandpa's face.

Rouge bit back a gasp, readying her aura.

Her grandpa stood firm, contradicting his frail appearance – the pale, wrinkled, liver-spotted skin and wiry hair juxtaposed his own fiery red eyes that peered from his shrunken eye-sockets. "Put that down."

The man in the mask laughed. "Why? What, you got aura? You gonna fight us?"

He didn't respond, but his silence was confirmation enough for the man, who laughed again. Her grandpa ignored him, glaring. "What do you want?"

The masked man in front stood up straighter, a hidden grin showing through his voice.. "I'm glad you asked. See, our boss Mandible just took this street. You better pay the racket, or you'll get what's comin' for ya."

Her grandpa's eyes narrowed as he leaned in. "I'm not going to do that."

The masked man's head tilted comically, the gun steady now in his hand. For several seconds, they hung there like a picture – no motion, no change. Still. Tranquil.

The man fired.

A raw, red hole opened up on her grandfather's chest as he fell back. It was like slow motion to Rouge as he steadied himself for a second before collapsing to the floor. Blood began to pool beneath him as the masked men stepped away from the counter and began to speak between themselves. Rouge took advantage of that, rushing quietly over to her grandpa's body.

His eyes registered her, but his mouth would not form words. A low moan rumbled from his throat, gurgling dangerously. Rouge took his hand into hers and activated her semblance – teleportation.

"Think of a hospital, Grandpa!" Rouge whispered frantically. "Listen, hospital, think of a-"

Finally, a sound emerged from his mouth – a shush, as he placed a finger sluggishly in front of his mouth.

"No, please listen, you need to-"

He shushed her again, placing a hand on her cheek. His hand began to drop, leaving a smear of his blood on her cheek. He smiled.

Rouge watched the light die from his red eyes. She saw her own reflected through them.

She stifled a cry when she realised – he was gone. She began to shake, hyperventilating. The sorrow came fast, but was followed faster by red, blinding rage. Guilt. What was the point in having a teleportation semblance if you can't even save one person? Hatred. How dare they, how _dare_ they kill him?

She glanced under the counter, saw a discarded spanner and a hammer. They weren't meant for violence, but with enough force…

Well. They definitely had enough mass.

/-/

Mordie turned back to his companion, putting the gun away with a sigh.

"Well, that happened."

The rookie looked at the body for a moment before focussing on Mordie. "Did we really have to do that? We could have tried harder."

Mordie shook his head. "The boss says we need to be tough on them. Kill 'em at the first sign, and all. Says it keeps them 'docile', whatever that means."

"Oh, it means-"

"Wasn't askin'."

"Oh, okay." There was a moment of silence between them. "But he can't pay us if he's dead."

"Someone new will come along." Mordie turned away, looking out of the shop window. "It's just the way of things, kid. Somebody dies, someone replaces them. Death is inevitable – helping it along doesn't change that."

There was a pause.

"Well, at least that's what Mandible says."

Another pause.

"Hey, why aren't you saying-" Mordie stopped as he turned to find his accomplice on the ground, spanner through the skull. "Shit."

He grabbed at his gun and span towards the counter to see a blur of red. He saw a hammer flying through the air.

It would be the last thing he saw.

/-/

**2 MONTHS LATER…**

"You ready?"

Zapper glanced to her left. "Yes, boss."

"Good." Her boss, Rexus, stepped away and to another ambush team. Zapper turned to her girlfriend, brown eyes trained on the darkness.

Lizzie noticed her glance. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

Liz gave her an exasperated look, copper curls covering her eyes. "About?"

Zapper sighed, looking back to make sure the boss wasn't listening. "I just don't get why we need to do this."

"The boss _said_ that this kid was gaining traction and becoming a problem for Mandible. So _we_ have to deal with it before-"

"I was at the briefing, Liz." It was Zapper's turn to look exasperated. "I just don't see how this kid can be that bad."

"Like the boss said, he's gaining traction-"

"He's, like, 11! Is he really _that_ dangerous?"

Liz looked away, uncomfortable. "Mandible thinks he is."

Zapper grumbled. "If he's so scared by a child, maybe he isn't the one we should be sticking with-"

"Quiet!" Liz glanced back but saw nobody listening. She turned to Zapper, whispering. "I know this feels dumb, but Mandible's still the biggest in the city. We should stick with them, okay?"

Zapper nodded.

"Now don't go around saying stuff like that, okay? You could get us kicked out or killed with shit like that."

She sighed. "Sorry, love."

"It's okay, hun." Liz gave her a smile, reaching over and squeezing her hand. Her pale skin contrasted Zappers dark brown complexion. Zapper stared into her girlfriend's blue eyes.

Someone screamed behind them. They jumped apart, reaching for their weapons. One of the other pairs was dead, only a few feet away.

Rexus rushed over, yelling. "She's here!"

Zapper readied her stave Zap-Baton, her lime and cyan short curls crackling with electricity. "Who?"

"The Cadogan girl. Fuck, she's taken out the whole party!"

Zapper's eyes squinted in confusion. "I… don't know who that is."

Liz started in surprise, tightening her grip on her sword. "The whole party? That's thirty people!"

Rexus ignored them, pulling out a tiny pistol. "We need to get out of here! Forget the ambush – we need to-"

He dropped suddenly like a stone, his skull caving around a mecha-shift sledgehammer. There was a moment of silence between the girls and the newcomer. Their enemy stepped back, revealing their red eyes. They narrowed coldly.

"Hi," she said.

She launched at them, Hammer raised high. Zapper jumped in front of her girlfriend, blocking the blow with her stave. The force knocked her back, but Liz advanced and covered her with a swipe of the sword.

Zapper jumped up over her, thrusting her stave into the girl's gut. She was sent flying, sparking. Liz tried to advance again.

The girl caught Liz's blade in the parts of her hammer. With a twist, Liz's sword was gone. A hard dust-infused blow sent her crashing into Zapper. Zapper's aura shattered as she crashed into a wall. What kind of dust was that?!

Zapper tried to get up, but the girl was already there. Liz pushed her away with her fists. The girl jumped around around her, sharp jabs depleting the last of her aura. Liz fell, exhausted, as the girl lifted her hammer to strike down.

"No!"

The girl stopped, looking up to where Zapper was stumbling to her feet. "What?"

"Please, stop!" Zapper tried to step towards them, but fell to her knees. "Please, don't hurt her."

The girl stared. Her arms began to shake, face growing red and eyes tearing up. "Don't hurt her?" she said despondently. "Did your boss show mercy when he killed my grandpa?"

Zapper shook quietly, unsure how to respond.

The girl gritted her teeth. "Well?!"

"I-" Zapper began, faltering, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Please, don't hurt her. I'll do anything. Hurt _me_ , even! Just not- Just not her."

The girl stopped shaking for a second, the word's registering. "You're sorry? You think you're _sorry_?" She raised the hammer high above her head. "You don't know the meaning of the _word_."

"And if you do that, you'll be just as bad as they are."

Both stopped and stared in surprise at the newcomer. Zapper gasped – in all the chaos, they had forgotten their quarry.

The kid – Crimson, his name was – stood in the middle of the street. His entourage had spread out a little where he had stopped, looking on the scene in interest. Some inspected the bodies left.

He gave a puzzled look around the courtyard. "More bodies to the pile." He turned to Zapper, eyebrows quirked. "Let me guess – you were waiting to ambush me when she showed up?"

Zapper nodded, too emotionally exhausted to speak.

"I'm not."

Both turned back to the girl, who still held the hammer high. Crimson stepped forward a bit, eyes sparkling with interest. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm not like them. I'm _nothing like them_!" The girl almost squeaked out the last part, tears dripping from her face.

"Maybe," said Crimson, "but you don't want to do this, do you?"

She shook a few seconds more. There was an odd authority to his voice, not of one gifted it or one who took it but one who inspired it. Wisdom, in a way. Whatever it was, it worked; the girl stepped back, dropping her hammer. She dropped to her knees.

Zapper sprung up with a second wind, rushing over to Liz. She cradled Liz in her arms. Liz's eyes fluttered.

"Zap?"

"Oh thank the gods!" Zapper kissed her tired girlfriend deeply. She stopped as she sensed Crimson's approach.

"This whole thing does make me wonder what we _should_ do with you, of course." Crimson settled onto his metal cane, glowing yellow eyes peering almost into their souls.

Zapper leant up, eyes pleading. "We surrender! We'll join you if you want, just… don't hurt us."

Crimson stood straight, head turned as he mulled it over. He nodded to himself. "I suppose we'll have to protect you from the Blood-Skulls when they discover you surrendered, so you joining us would be ideal…" He sprung up, idea formed. "Aha!"

He turned back to the crowd. "Skye!"

Someone stepped forward from the crowd – tall, with dark, mid-length wavy hair. They jogged lightly as they made their way over.

"Ah, there you are Skye. Now, I believe your team is missing two?"

They nodded. "Yeah."

Crimson grinned, gesturing towards the girls. "Will these two suffice?"

Skye stepped forward, looking the two up and down with their hazel eyes. Eventually, they nodded. "Sure."

Crimson clicked his fingers in victory. "Nice! Think you could help them back to base?"

"Yes, boss," said Skye, helping the two of them up. They went away, the crowd dispersing quickly as Crimson returned his attention to the girl. She was still despondent on the ground.

He sat down across from her, grunting from the strain on his back. She looked up, as if seeing him for the first time.

He leaned forward. "I'm Crimson. What's you're name?"

She shook for a second. Finally, her mouth opened. "R-Rouge."

"Rouge?"

"Rouge C-Cadogan."

He nodded. They were alone in the courtyard. The silence lasted for at least a minute before she spoke again.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

She sniffed, tears receding at last. "Why did you stop me?"

As if she had said a joke, he smiled. "Because I know that hurting people indiscriminately does nothing good in this world."

She ground her teeth. "Then what does?"

He didn't respond, letting the silence stretch out. She waited for a response to come, but none did.

She let out a breath.

"I knew your grandfather."

She stilled.

He chuckled. "Well, I think I did. Leeroy Cadogan, right?"

She nodded. "That was him."

"Gods, he was the best smith in the city – the kingdom even!" Crimson leant back, staring at the sky.

"Mhm. Taught me everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"Huh." Crimson pulled his eyes from the clouds. "Well, I knew him too, once, and he taught _me_ something."

Rouge leaned in. "What did he teach you?"

Crimson smiled. "To channel my anger." He pulled out a pack of cards, shuffling it compulsively. "He taught me that being angry, that lashing out, wouldn't change anything."

"Then what does?" Rouge leaned into him. "What am I _supposed_ to do?"

"Look at these cards." He constructed a house of cards with remarkable speed. He pointed at the bottom corner. "This is your grandfather."

"Right."

He pointed at the one above it. "This is you."

Rouge nodded.

He pulled the card of the grandfather out. The whole house collapsed. "Somebody hurt him. And because of that, you're hurting other people. But that just means more people get hurt – the tower collapses, and the world gets a little worse. To hurt, to _kill_ , indiscriminately does nothing but cause harm. You need to discriminate. To give mercy. Chances. Help, more that hurt." Crimson smiled. "That's what he taught me."

Rouge looked away. "You can't stop me."

"Maybe not, but I think I can help you channel it better." He collected up the cards. "I'm dividing my people up into teams, but I need one of my own – to help me and to keep me in check." He stood up and held out a hand. "There's a place with us for the daughter of Leeroy Cadogan. A home. With your skills and strength, we could take over Atlas. I'm sure of it."

She stood up as well, deconstructing her mecha-shift into a screw-spanner and a mallet. "And what of Mandible? The Blood-Skulls?"

"They fall first."

She took his hand, shaking it. "Deal. I'll be on your team, we take them out."

Crimson grinned, stepping away. "Welcome to the Foxes."

Rouge grinned with him. "Glad to be included."

 **C** **R** S L

TEAM CAROUSEL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what a chapter! We've got a steadily building cast now. I hope you like them.
> 
> Rouge will be our engineer, though she also has her little vendetta with the Blood-Skulls and Mandible - I guess we'll see how that plays out.
> 
> Next is S, which will be shorter (probably) and then L, which is pretty heavy in it's content matter and might even need a trigger warning. So warning in advance i guess.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed,
> 
> See you dreckly!


	3. Trailer 3 - Sapphire

**RWBY: Underworld**

**Trailer 3: "Sapphire"**

/-/

" _Stoicism is not Apathy. Apathy is born from the privilege to ignore hard times – Stoicism is the tool of the unprivileged so that they may_ _ **endure**_ _."_

Sapphire stumbled down a random alleyway, clutching a small loaf of bread to her chest. 5 Atlas droids scampered in pursuit.

Just her luck that the checkpoint was manned today.

With a subtle push of her aura she activated her semblance, forming a barrier in front of her. She jumped from it, backflipping onto one of the robots. It went down like crumpling paper.

She threw the loaf into the air, knocking another two droids down with her fist. Her dark-skinned hands contrasted their white painted finish as she sent precise barriers into their bodies, crushing and bending the metal and plastic.

With a quick wave of a hand, a barrier formed to block the bullets of the remaining two. She pushed the barrier towards them, pressing them against the wall so hard they began to spark. The lights in their LED eyes faded. She caught the falling loaf of bread.

Sapphire let out a breath, turning away from the chaos. It had been problematic that she'd had to do that, and the heat would be up for a few days, but these things happen. It'll go away soon enough.

"Not so fast!"

And like that, another problem. She just couldn't catch a break.

She spun on her heel to see an Atlas Specialist – a Specialist!? – staring her down, blade outstretched. She knew this one from somewhere. White hair, blue eyes…

Oh. Winter Schnee. Well that certainly wasn't what she'd expected to deal with today.

"Specialist" Schnee was breathing in a little heavier that you'd expect. She must have been running – had the bots sent a warning? That wasn't good – the place would be swarming soon. But then again… her enemy was, if the tabloids were to be believed, fresh from training – only three years of real-world experience, badge fresh from the packet – and she might be able to deal with the Schnee before anybody else arrived.

Either way, she had to do _something_. Fast.

Winter shuffled in her posture, sword still outstretched. "Surrender, in the name of Atlas!"

Fight it was, then. Sapphire grabbed the bat she'd hidden behind the dumpster.

Winter launched herself forwards.

Sapphire blocked the Schnee's blade with her bat, throwing her off balance with a barrier from below. Winter rolled, Sapphire's bat missing by mere millimetres. The tables were turned as Sapphire brought the bat down against Winter's sword.

A shockwave was sent by Winter's blade at the impact. Sapphire was launched upwards by a glyph.

Sapphire landed, the concrete ground cracking beneath her feet. She tried to bring her bat forward again, but she was forced to throw up a hasty barrier as a flock of small Grimm crashed towards her. She stepped back, seeing Winter do the same. It seemed they were at an impasse.

Oh well. You know what they say: if you can't go through, go over.

Sapphire launched herself up with a barrier, landing on the roof of an adjacent building. She'd barely made it halfway across the roof when Winter came rushing, her blades splitting in two.

Sapphire turned and parried the one with her bat, blocking the other with her barriers. She spun on one foot, beads of sweat dripping off her forehead. This was becoming a problem.

She tripped Winter up again, but Winter swung up as she rolled and caught Sapphire on the arm. Winter stood, both blades at the ready.

Winter jumped forward, Sapphire barely responding in time. Another nick to her aura, then another – she had no time to check, but she could feel it depleting fast.

She held back a shout as Winter's blade passed through her hair, glancing off her aura-protected dreads and slicing her hairband. The dreads dropped in front of her eyes, causing her to throw her head back just in time to avoid Winter's other blade. She ground her teeth silently as she responded with a solid strike of her bat. Winter went _flying_.

Sapphire spun on her heel and sprinted away, jumping onto the next rooftop, then the next. But she could hear her opponent catching up. Suddenly she ran into a glyph, sending her sprawling.

She turned towards her enemy, who seemed to have stopped. Her sword was in the ground, once more whole, as a cog glyph turned beneath her feet. Sapphire readied herself for anything.

She wasn't ready enough.

Winter sped forwards with impossible speed, striking Sapphire a dozen times in less than a second. She could feel her aura on the brink of shattering. Desperately, she sent barriers in every direction as fast as she could. There was a blast wave of aura energy as the exertion drained and shattered her aura in a single move, but Winter had stopped. Sapphire glanced over to see Winter, knocked back by the hit, struggling to her feet. She needed no further motivation.

Sapphire ran past Winter, ignoring her faint command to stop as she jumped down into an alley. In ten seconds, she was lost deep into Mantle's maze of backstreets, a significant distance from her opponent. She'd escaped.

She finally stopped against an exposed brick wall, catching her breath. She paused for a second before reaching into her pocket and removing a new hair-tie, pulling her short dreads up into a small ponytail. Thank the gods she kept spares.

Gods, that had been close. And all for a loaf of bread! A loaf of bread she'd lost in the fight. She swallowed dryly and sat down, ignoring the pain of the brickwork gouging her aura-less back. She'd just have to go hungry another couple of days. She's lasted longer before.

"Lost this?"

She sprang up, startled and reaching for her bat. The intruding arrival lifted his hands in immediate surrender.

She looked him up and down. Red hair, fox ears, yellow eyes, black hat… he seemed familiar. "Lost what?"

He lowered a hand, holding out it's contents. The loaf of bread. Sapphire took it tentatively, putting down the bat only when she was sure he wouldn't attack. She inspected the loaf for damages or tampering before tearing off a chunk and eating it.

Forget going hungry. She'd needed this.

Her new companion only watched as she dug in with a bemused smile. The kid was young, probably not even a teenager, but he held a demeanour that seemed beyond his station. He was too confident – no fool would just walk up to anyone in these streets without their guard up, but he seemed totally fearless in the face of unknown danger. Was it an act? If so, it was a convincing one.

When she was done, he offered her a bottle of water. She eyed it suspiciously.

"Why are you doing this?"

He laughed, the sound of his voice unusually deep for his appearance. "Must there be alternate motives for all forms of altruism? Though in all honesty, you have made me very curious."

She took the bottle – checked it was sealed, she wasn't stupid – and took a swig. The water was fresh and refreshing, a far cry from what little she usually drank. "Curious of what?"

"You do realise who you just fought, right?"

She paused, swallowing. So he had been watching. "Winter Schnee, right?"

He nodded. "Aye. Graduated top of her class at Atlas, too. Then she was at the top of the leader board during her Specialist training. Unprecedented scores. And you just fought her and _won_."

"I didn't _win_ , I _ran away_."

"Don't be ridiculous! When it comes to people like her, running away _is_ a victory. You're very skilled. More than that, even – you're smart. Tactical."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's with all of the flattery?"

"It's not flattery, it's honesty. You have made me very curious, and I think I could do with an ally like you."

She appraised him a second time. She was sure he seemed familiar. He looked kind of like that Atlas criminal everyone seemed slightly scared of, the one named Torchwick – and it clicked. "Crimson, leader of the Foxes gang."

He grinned. "Right on."

"And you want _me_ as an ally."

Crimson nodded. "I'd be stupid not to really – I'm struggling to pull people in as it is, so to ignore a catch like this would be idiotic at _best_."

Sapphire finished the bottle, tossing it into a nearby dumpster. "So you want me to join your gang."

"More than that." He leant forward on his cane. "I'm constructing a team of my own. I've already got someone, but I need a second in command. A tactician to help me. Someone to take charge if I'm too busy. And I figure you might be the right choice."

Sapphire looked away, thinking. Becoming the second in command of an up-and-coming gang wasn't exactly what she had in mind for today, but did she have any other options? She'd kept to herself for as long as possible, but inevitably somebody would come along and force her into line. And this time, they wouldn't be nice about it.

At least this way she gets a choice.

"Deal."

Crimson smiled ear to ear, holding out a hand for her to shake. "Fantastic! What's your name, then?"

She took the hand. "Sapphire. Just Sapphire."

"Well Sapphire, let's get started! If all goes well…" He reached up to put an arm around her shoulders, leading her into the darkness. "Well, none of us will ever go hungry again."

 **C R** **S** L

TEAM CAROUSEL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that should do it.
> 
> Sorry for the wait, Trailer 4 should show up on Friday (along with a new video on my channel - you should check it out) but after that? I actually want to start after V8 is over, for a number of reasons. Therefore, I'll publish the next trailer on Friday and then that should be it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> See you dreckly!


	4. Trailer 4 - Lilac

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:
> 
> MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND PARENTAL ABUSE AS WELL AS ALLUSIONS TO UNRECOGNISED GENDER DYSPHORIA
> 
> CONTENT WARNING:
> 
> MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND PARENTAL ABUSE AS WELL AS ALLUSIONS TO UNRECOGNISED GENDER DYSPHORIA
> 
> Sorry about that, but I figured I would put it up here. It shouldn't be an issue to skip this if those things bother you as it's only a small part of the main story that you'd probably get through fine without this context. But if you are still reading this:
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Or at least something adjacent to enjoyment.

**RWBY: Underworld**

**Trailer 4: "Lilac"**

/-/

" _Expectation rarely matches reality, and in no place is this clearer than other's expectations of the_ _ **self**_ _. Often, we cannot be what is forced upon us."_

Lavender grunted as he hit the brick wall, aura levels halving. He got up, fists at the ready.

His opponents laughed, rushing at him.

Maybe he could have taken one of them, but all three at once was impossible. He tried to catch the largest one's fist, but it pushed through his block and slammed into his shoulder. He rolled to avoid a second hit, but the shorter one kicked him. He dry-heaved – he would have vomited, had he anything in his stomach – and climbed to his feet. The tallest of them knocked out his knees with a swipe of a crowbar.

These were the only identifying markers he had of these thugs – he didn't know their names, and they all wore black balaclavas. He could tell they were all men from their voices, but it hardly mattered – what mattered was escaping. He tried to climb to his feet again.

The tall one slammed the crowbar into his back, bringing his aura even further. He could tell from the feeling that it was going to break soon.

As the large one's fist came down on his face, he was reminded of another time.

/-/

Lavender grunted as he hit the hard-light dust wall, aura levels halving. He got up, fists at the ready.

His opponent rolled their eyes, rushing at him.

There was no way he could win this fight, but not trying would have a worse outcome. He tried to catch his opponent's fist but failed, the swing slamming into his shoulder painfully. He rolled to avoid a second hit, putting some distance between them.

His father chuckled darkly. He, in contrast, was having a blast.

Lavender sent a punch his way. His dad deflected it into the ground, flipping him around his knee. Lavender landed on his back. His father slammed a boot into his stomach.

He dry-heaved and then vomited, his father waiting until he was done. The grate floor of the training room automatically sucked the vile acid away, leaving no evidence behind. Lavender got shakily to his feet.

His father nodded. "Again."

And they were at it again. Lavender pulled aura to his fists and slammed his fist into his father's solar plexus, pulling some of his dad's aura with it. His dad merely gritted his teeth and kneed Lavender in the stomach. Lavender went down, and his dad kicked him in the teeth.

Lavender let out a cry of pain as his father began wailing on him, slamming fists and boots into his soft tissues. He pulled at his aura, grasped with his hands, tried to do anything, _anything_ -

His aura shattered.

His father sighed, pulling back and turning off the training environment's walls. "Get up."

Lavender groaned, body not responding.

"GET UP!"

Lavender compelled his body to move, standing up shakily. He slouched, unable to meet his father's disapproving eyes.

"Dad, I-"

"I can't believe you." He began pacing around the room. "Do you understand why I push you this hard?"

"Yes, father."

"So why aren't you using your semblance? You said it was initiated by 'desperation', so I've pushed you as far as I can. WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?"

"I-I don't know, father."

"Well that's just great." He stopped his pacing, looking Lavender in the eye. "There's no way you can participate in the tournament without a semblance, you aren't a good enough fighter. We've got to figure something out. Maybe your aura manipulation? No, it wouldn't be strong enough without fighting ability to back it up."

"Maybe I shouldn't enter the tournament-"

"DON'T BE RIDICULOUS!" His father yelled suddenly, getting close enough for Lavender to feel the spittle coming from his mouth. "You're a Gelbfeige for the gods' sake, it's your destiny to fight! Your brothers understand that, why can't you?" He turned away, grumbling. "Get out. I'll speak with your mother on how to handle this. Go!"

Lavender decided to scamper out as fast as possible, leaving his father in the dust. He slipped into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Gods, Cyano Gelbfeige was a difficult man to please.

He pushed off the door and walked to the attached bathroom, washing out his vomit-filled mouth. He wiped his face on a towel, looking up at the mirror.

His short blonde bangs fell in front of his eyes, and he pushed them back to get a look at his brown irises. They eyes were bloodshot from the stress of the fight, making him look slightly sickly alongside his pale skin.

His purple suit, the outfit his father demanded he wear in combat, was still mostly immaculate – however, the fight showed through scuffs and loosened threads. He adjusted the tie. He hated it.

He hated everything in the reflection.

Something was wrong, he could feel it. As well as he could feel his own aura, there was a sense that the thing he was looking at was wrong. At first, he had wondered if it was his weakness – his barely muscular arms definitely sub-par in his father's eyes. However, any attempt to change that – working out, growing a beard, etc – simply made him feel worse. He felt like he was going mad. Was it the suit he hated? The hair? He felt like he needed to punish himself for being wrong somehow, but he didn't know where to start.

Well, he supposed he _did_. He pulled up a sleeve, eyeing the razorblade he'd left on the counter. Dad wouldn't notice. He hadn't yet, after all.

However, he was stopped in his tracks by a crash from outside. He hastily pushed his sleeve back up, hiding his intentions as he rushed into the bedroom.

All was quiet again. The room was empty save for him, and the house was silent. He didn't even know where the sound had come from – its invisible echoes seemed to bounce around his head, even as the sound was gone.

Suddenly, he heard yelling from the hallway outside. A struggle followed by movement down to the main hall. He waited for the sound to be gone before slipping out of the door – he needed to know what was going on.

The sounds continued all the way to the main hall. As he followed them, he noted that there was nobody else around. The house seemed deserted. Finally, he came upon the main foyer of the manor, where the sounds had stopped. He slipped into a servant passage heading through and peeking his head around the other exit.

The rest of his family – both parents, both brothers – were tied up in the centre of the room. Surrounding them were a large mass of criminals in paper masks, toting guns of variable size. The one of them not wearing a mask, tall and broad, leant down to speak with his father.

"I know you have all sorts stashed around here; Where is it."

His father gritted his teeth in indignation. "I won't tell you! I still have my-"

"Look, if you don't tell me, we'll kill you all and burn this manor to the ground."

That seemed to shut him up. He still refused to talk though.

That changed when the thug pressed a knife to his throat.

Cyano gave a stubborn grimace. "I don't believe you can do it! This manor holds too much for you to just burn."

"Mandle was hoping for a good yield today – if we can't get it in time, he'll want us to cut our losses." The thug chuckled suddenly. "Imagine the headline – Rich Ex-Fighter and his Family Die in House-Fire."

There was a pause.

Cyano looked up shakily. "Behind the painting is a safe. The code is 1394."

The thug straightened out, laughing. "I'm glad to get some cooperation." He walked on over the picture, ripping it off the wall. Lavender winced from his hiding spot at the damage.

He entered the code, peering into the safe's contents. Suddenly, he let out a whistle. "Shit, the Gelbfeige Garnet! That's worth some good money."

Lavender gasped in shock before clasping his hands over his mouth. It was too late – he had been heard.

"I mean, if this is the kind of stuff you keep in the _entrance_ , what exactly is in the rest of the house, eh?"

"Sir?" One of the other thugs motioned with his head at the servant's exit where Lavender was hiding. Their leader stormed over and threw the door open, pulling him out into the foyer.

He stood up, holding Lavender up in the air. "Well, you're a scrawny little shit, aren't you?" He threw Lavender onto the ground.

Lavender got up, cognisant of his shattered aura. This was just the _worst_ timing.

The thug looked him up and down appraisingly before coming to a decision. "Go."

Lavender faltered. "W-what?"

The large man let out a deep-bellied laugh. "Kid, you couldn't kick the crap out of a haybale. Get lost – we'll be done by the time you get back. One way or another."

Lavender looked between his family and the door in indecision. Run and get help, or fight and surely die? His father suddenly piped up, incensed by the proposition.

"You stand and fight, son, do you hear me? You STAND!"

Lavender took a step towards the door.

Cyano seemed even more infuriated by this. "You little SHIT! You come back and fight that _degenerate_ this instant or you're dead to me. You hear me!? DEAD TO ME!"

Lavender wasn't dying tonight. He turned and ran.

His father's echoing cries chased him out beyond the front door. "DON'T YOU DARE COME BACK! YOU'RE DEAD TO ME, UNDERSTAND! DEAD! IF YOU COME CRAWLING BACK I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU MYSELF!" The cries were overshadowed by the deep-bellied laugh of the criminal's leader, clearly taking joy in the chaos. Lavender ran and ran and ran until he couldn't hear any of it anymore, but the yells kept echoing across his brain. Impossible to escape.

/-/

And back to the present.

Lavender groaned in pain on the floor, his aura nearly shattered. He struggled to move, even his breathing being a chore. The thugs laughed as his prone form before the large one motioned to the short one.

He strained to hear what they were saying.

"Get the knife."

Shit, they were going to kill him? He tried to push himself as he saw the short one come back with a dagger and walk over to him. The short one raised the dagger high.

Oh gods, he was going to die. He could almost feel the wound already – deep, hollow pain as the blood flowed out. He didn't want to die! He pulled at his aura, grasped with his hands, tried to do anything, _anything_ -

His semblance activated.

As the thug thrust the knife down, he knocked it aside clumsily and threw a glowing fist into the thug's face. The man went flying, his aura shattering instantly on impact with the ground. The other two got into fighting poses again – they, at least, still seemed confident in their victory.

For the first time in the fight, Lavender wasn't quite so sure of his defeat.

He jumped forward, pulling aura to his fists. He slammed his fist into the large one's solar plexus, pulling some of the thug's aura with it as he pulled his arm back. The thug fell to his knees from the shock of the blow. The tall one, however, was quick to retaliate in his stead.

He tried to catch his Lavender's fist but failed, the swing slamming into his shoulder painfully. Lavender slammed his worn boot into his stomach, and the thug projectile vomited into the air. A kick to the side was enough to shatter his aura.

Lavender turned his attention to the large one, who'd recovered from his hit. Lavender focused all of his aura and all of his semblance power into his legs, rushing forwards with enough speed to compensate for his sloppy technique. He localised all of that energy in one foot and swung upwards into the man's groin.

The thug's eyes rolled back into his head as his aura shattered, flying comically into the air and landing several feet away. Lavender breathed heavily, his stamina depleted from the fight.

His adrenaline ran out. Suddenly, all of the pain and stress caught up to him and he collapsed, exhausted. He couldn't will his body to move – he passed out.

Luckily for him, an altruistic spy happened to be nearby.

Rouge pressed the button on her earpiece. "Boss? You'll want to see this."

Crimson's voice came clear across the airwaves. "I'm already heading that way, so I'll see it when I get there."

"Great."

Shortly, Rouge led Crimson into the alleyway. Crimson stared in surprise at the scene before him. "Did you do this?"

Rouge shook her head, pointing at the blonde kid in the centre. "It was them."

Crimson walked over, crouching over the kid's body. "He seems familiar…"

There was a pause as the two of them contemplated this development. One of the thugs began stirring, but a swift strike to the top of his head from Crimson's cane put a stop to that. Suddenly, Crimson got up and turned to Rouge.

"My curiosity it piqued. Take him back to base, we can debrief later."

Rouge nodded, picking up the kid – no older that 16, surely – as she looked at his face. It was indeed familiar. But where was it from?

She would probably remember later. But it was time to head back – this kid wasn't going to deliver himself.

/-/

Lavender was lying on something soft. It wasn't the softest thing he'd ever lain on – that would be his bed back home – but it was definitely softer that the city streets he'd slept on for the past few months. He stretched, yawning. His eyes fluttered open.

A girl who looked around his age was sitting in front of him, smirking. She reached over and shook the shoulder of the boy sitting next to her, who had to be 12 or something. The red-head's eyes opened wide as he started from his chair, surprised by the awakening. He glanced over and smiled.

"Ah, glad to see you're awake."

Lavender tried to push himself up but stopped at an intense pain in his arm. The boy lurched towards him, catching him as he collapsed onto the bed.

The boy's eyes were wide with alarm. "Don't use your arm like that – you've kind of pulverised the bones inside. Hell of a semblance that did that, I'll say."

Lavender looked down at his arm. Well, that was new. He sighed; just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, and it turned out that his semblance was self-destructive. Just his luck.

Lavender sat up slowly, taking care not to damage his broken arm. "Where am I?"

The boy smirked. "Welcome… to my lair! Well, it's less like a lair and more like a home base, but dammit it'll be a lair if I say it is!"

Lavender squinted at the boy. "Wait, are you… Crimson of the Foxes?!"

Crimson frowned. "Well, this isn't as fun if you know who I am. Though, it goes to show that what we're doing is working! What do you think of that, Rouge?"

He looked over at Rouge, who shrugged non-committally. He turned back, smiling again. "Would you believe I know who you are, too?"

"Probably, yes."

Crimson sighed, pulling back. "Gods, you are not making this easy for me! Alright, Lavender Gelbfeige, let's talk."

"About what?"

"I'd like to know about you." Crimson stepped forwards again, taking a seat next to the bed. "From what Rouge told me of what she saw, your aura control is incredible. You study it?"

Lavender nodded. "I was tutored, but I studied on my own afterwards."

Crimson nodded in understanding. "I've been told that the Gelbfeiges had strong aura senses, but yours must be stronger than most. So! How exactly does the son of an ex-champion end up left behind on the streets of Mantle while the rest of the family escapes to Atlas?"

Lavender sighed. "Dad had been planning the move for a while – he was worried about a robbery. When it happened… I ran. He must not have bothered looking for me."

Crimson's eyebrow quirked upwards. "Why not?"

"I was never the best fighter – the worst in the family actually." He raised his hands above his head tiredly. "Your friend saw me out there – I got fucked up."

"Yes, but not before fucking them up first." He held up a scroll. On it played shaky footage – probably the girl's – of his fight. It was after he'd got his semblance to work – he was absolutely wrecking them. Crimson smiled as he watched. "Your semblance is quite impressive."

"But it's also self-destructive!"

"So I noticed." Crimson put the scroll away. "But we have a solution for that." He motioned to his friend, who stepped over.

Rouge lifted a sketch of a metal gauntlet that stretched up the whole arm. " If we can use something like this as a shock absorber, we can not only fix the problem with the self-deprecation of the arms but also provide some extra power to the other hits as well! I'm excited to build it."

Lavender frowned. "Why are you helping me?"

The two gangsters glanced at each other. Crimson turned back to him. "We have a proposal."

"Oh?"

"I watched your fight on Rouge's scroll. Your technique is sloppy – very sloppy – but you have lots of potential. I think we can-"

"So you want me to fight for you." Lavender said resignedly. The first kind person he'd spoken to in months and they wanted him for his semblance. Typical.

Crimson shook his head. "No, lad, we would like for you to fight _with_ us." He started pacing as he spoke. "Let's face it, you probably won't survive for much longer out there. You almost died today! And we don't want that, we want to protect you. But there's one problem." He turned back dramatically. "We're kind of understaffed right now."

He stepped back up to the bed, grabbing the rail at its foot. "We need your help, Lavender. Sure, we want to help you in turn – but we can't pass up the chance at getting someone with aura control like yours – a semblance like yours! If you joined the team and we could shape you up, we could help so many people!"

Lavender looked away. "I don't know…"

"Please, Lavender. We need you. And hey, you could leave any time you wanted – if you want, we'll help you get stronger and better and you can go off and do whatever you want. Or stay, if that's your choice. Please."

"My dad couldn't get me to 'shape up'. What makes you think you can?"

Crimson smirked. "Well, from the sound of things I'd say I have something he hasn't got."

"What?"

"Patience." Crimson stepped back. 'Speaking of which, I'll give you a minute to make your decision. Rouge let's go." The two of them began to leave the room.

"Wait!"

They stopped, turning back. "Yes?" Crimson asked.

Lavender gave an exhausted sigh. "It's not like I have anything better going on. Fine, I'll join – but I reserve the right to leave whenever I want."

Crimson smiled widely. "Fantastic!" He turned to Rouge. "Rouge, can you sort him out? I have to go file some paperwork – you know how it is."

Rouge looked on in surprise. "You want him on the team?"

"Easiest to train him that way." He looked back. "And when he's got the technique, he'll be as strong as the rest of us. Anyway, see you!" He dipped out of the already open door.

Rouge looked back at him thoughtfully. "Alright, Lavender," she said, "Let's get you sorted."

Lavender chuckled nervously. He hoped he hadn't just made a big mistake.

**C R S** **L**

TEAM CAROUSEL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! There was the last trailer for RWBY:Underworld. I'm afraid that's the last update here until V8 is over, but my RWBY X Spiderman crossover will still be updating and I'm near always active on my tumblr XaosDiscordial.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
> 
> See you dreckly.


End file.
